Rasp
by y-ye
Summary: Asahi was kind, and strong, and just plain manly in a lot of ways Kageyama admired. It was difficult though being unable to understand quite what was going on in Asahi's head. To be unable to help fix whatever was wrong.


So many things about Asahi just made Kageyama want to drop everything and somehow be there, be his equal in whatever it was going on. Even now, with Asahi having stuttered through an acceptance of his confession and initiating skinship, he didn't feel equal.

He knew that Asahi dealt with things differently in his brain. There was some filter that was just completely different. Nishinoya called it having a glass heart. Kageyama could see that, but there was something else going on he just couldn't place his finger on. Something that made Asahi worry over everything he said or did.

Asahi was kind, and strong, and just plain manly in a lot of ways Kageyama admired. It was difficult though being unable to understand quite what was going on in Asahi's head. To be unable to help fix whatever was wrong.

Especially now, as he opened the door to Asahi's room only to find him curled up as small as he could make himself under his blanket, face pressed to his knees and making such quiet sounds of distressed weeping. Swallowing as his gaze darted around for something, anything to comfort Asahi with, he slowly moved towards the bed.

It wasn't a small room, but it felt almost crowded with empty water bottles, all sorts of pillows, and posters of quiet things. Breathtaking landscapes, pastel characters with smooth lines, fuzzy creatures who could do no harm. The floor was a soft cream color without any stains. The walls were a soft green where it peeked out around the posters. This was a safe space.

Settling beside Asahi slowly, they sit in silence but for a few sniffles.

Should he talk? No, not yet, he might make Asahi even more upset. But he had to do something...

Raising a hand up, he debated on where to place it. His knee? No, his face was there, not only would it be too close to his face, it'd also probably be gross. His foot? What the hell, no. His head? That just felt belittling... Maybe his back?

So Kageyama place a hand softly on Asahi's lower back, awkwardly rubbing an oval along his spine. It feels good to have Asahi relax under his hand, quieting his sobs and slowing his breaths. Who knows how long they stay like that, Kageyama raptly staring as Asahi's back and rubbing the same oval shape over and over...

"I'm okay... now..." Asahi whispers hoarsely again his legs, still not raising his head up. "Thank you, Kageyama." But it doesn't feel like enough. Wracking his brain, he stands up abruptly and feels oddly satisfied when Asahi's head jerks up to stare at him.

"I-I'm going to get a washcloth! Stay here!" Trundling out of the room, he automatically wanders to the bathroom and grabs a washcloth from the cabinet. Running it under cool (not cold, not warm, definitely not hot) water, he wrings it out twice and pats his hands dry on it before scurrying back to Asahi's room.

Asahi hasn't moved an inch, eyes still fixated on the door which Kageyama left through. He jumps slightly when Kageyama briskly makes his way over and presses on his knees until his legs are down and he can wipe Asahi's face. It's a little rough against his skin, but it still feels nice. Eyes drooping, he sighs as he watches the concentration furrow Kageyama's brow.

"Is it too cold, Asahi? Am I too rough?" Choking back the sudden urge to laugh at Kageyama's unintentional sexual remarks, Asahi swallows his giggles.

"This is nice," Asahi admits so quietly Kageyama almost doesn't hear it. "Keep going?"

Eventually the washcloth is set to the side, and Kageyama carefully doesn't ask why Asahi was crying as he runs his fingers very carefully over his face. Frowning at the dark circles, tucking the loose hairs behind Asahi's ears, messing with the scruffy goatee. Fussing over Asahi while he can.

He hates that he feels equal in moments like this, when Asahi's feeling weak and tired. But he wouldn't give up being able to touch him like this for anything.

"I love you." So easy on his tongue when he watches brown eyes widen in shock and joy. "No matter what."

"You too," Asahi says, eyes gooey soft and leaning in to steal a kiss. Kageyama tilts his head obediently, closing his eyes and moving with Asahi's mouth. He never understood why people called kisses battlegrounds, when it was so simple. They worked together, pliant and familiar. Yes, even the mild irritation of Asahi's beard was familiar to him now.

They would figure everything out. Just give them enough time.


End file.
